


Human Race

by sheronthekitty



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, Angst, But only mentions and flashbacks, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Fake AH Crew, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, M/M, MTF Jack, Minor Character Death, Other RT members might show up, Past Abuse, Psychological Torture, Self-Harm, Torture, Trans Jack, Violence, mentions of Ray - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-17
Updated: 2018-10-17
Packaged: 2019-08-03 12:59:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16326713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheronthekitty/pseuds/sheronthekitty
Summary: "I'm sick of running, sick of running, sick of running the human race, the human race."No matter how much Gavin trusts the Fakes, trusts his two boyfriends... he can't tell them about this. When a heist goes wrong and Gavin ends up nearly dying and in the wrong hands, it's up to the others to rescue him and let these secrets come to the light.





	Human Race

**Author's Note:**

> woops, well, uh, here we go.  
> making another fuckin g story instead of, uh  
> you know, working on the other 1000 wips i have.  
> ^^;;
> 
> ive had this in my brain for a while now, tho, so i guess its time to spew this bs out for y'all to read.

"There he is!" Gavin heard one of the cops out of the  _dozens_ who had surrounded them when they exited the bank. It seemed the entire LSPD had come, vying for their chance to arrest- or kill- the infamous Fakes. The LSPD had probably been drawn to the scene from Michael's ill-timed explosion, though it wasn't his fault that some asshole had left a fucking lit cigarette in the trash, causing the whole trashcan to catch fire and ultimately set the bombs off too early. They had swarmed the place like bees to a hive, guns all at the ready. The Fakes had tried to fight back, but even with Jeremy sniping from the rooftops, it was still too many to take on. Geoff had come up with the brilliant idea to flee the cops and meet at the spot they had agreed on, and everyone went to get to their designated getaway cars all while dodging the flying bullets above their head.

Except, Ryan's mask shattered into a million black pieces onto the asphalt when a stray bullet knocked it off his face. He was wearing his signature facepaint underneath, of course, but the man had been pretty miffed about it since it had been brand new. He wanted to go on a one-man-vendetta for revenge on his mask, but Geoff had slapped him upside the head with his bag of money, telling him to get his head back where it needed to be.

Except, the movement had caught the cops' eyes and they shot at Geoff, ripping through the bag and sending the cash flying everywhere. None of them had been happy, least of all Geoff, because there went his cut of their earnings. It was Ryan's turn to pull Geoff away, the man red-faced and cursing at the cops, at God, and Ryan for making Geoff hit him with the money.

Except, the second Getaway Car, the one meant for Gavin, Geoff, and Ryan, had been blown to a smoking, charred husk in the earlier explosion. Geoff cursed some more and had decided the best plan of action was for the three to split and meet up where they planned by themselves. Find their own way there with their portion of the money, split the cops apart into more manageable chunks and take them out or lose them from there.

Except, in the fray of fleeing in opposite directions, Gavin had... well, Gavin had been fucking shot. 

The bullet had gone straight through his shoulder- another one had knicked his forehead- but he was  _fine_. Not to mention he had gone the  _wrong_ way, ending up in the opposite area then he wanted to be. Not to mention he was surrounded by bloody cops, and the only place that  _didn't_ have cops was the dark, rumbling water of the bay behind him. He peered around the edge of the building he was currently hiding behind, only to duck back against the wall as shots peppered above his head. He cursed quietly and brought his good hand up to his ear, to his comm, and said, loud enough to be heard over the others, "I'm bleedin' trapped here, guys. Got cops on one side and the bay on the other." His voice sounded distorted and unnatural to his own ears, but Gavin chalked it up to the blood still pounding through his head and hoped it sounded normal enough the others didn't ask questions.

Suddenly, a loud  _crack_ rang through the air, silencing the LSPD for a moment. Gavin peeked his head back out from his cover and saw them all now focused on the buildings above them, one of the officers dead, shot through the head, in their midsts. "Cheers, Lil'J," Gavin whispered in momentary awe. He sometimes forgot how good of a shot the man could be, as well as being physically strong, too, and clearly, it had saved Gavin's ass more than once.

"No problem, buddy," he heard Jeremy say, both from his communicator and from somewhere above him. He glanced up, towards the roof opposite of the building he was hiding against, and just saw Jeremy's dumb cowboy hat against the dark night sky. He shot his crewmate a one-handed thumbs up and got one in return before Jeremy turned and disappeared into the night as if he hadn't been there in the first place. Another shot rang out, and another cop dead, and Gavin once again poked his head out from his hiding spot. He saw the cops hurridly climbing into their cars, and he made a break for it. Tucking his golden pistol into the waist of his pants, he took off, head ducked. He dashed by the cops and heard them yelling out for him to stop, so he ran faster. His lungs burned with the exertion, his already bruised, bloody, and beaten body protesting against the strain, but he didn't stop.

He ran down the side streets and alleys, duly noting that he was now in the warehouse district by the bay and  _not_ on the other side of the fucking city where he needed to be. The alley he was currently on opened up to a street that ran parallel of the water, and he turned to his right and began to follow it at a slower pace, having lost the cops through all the twists and turns. Gavin was glad he knew the layout of the city like the back of his hand, otherwise, he would be absolutely lost. But he knew where he was and exactly how to get to where he needed to be. He saw the bridge through two buildings and sped up to a jog. "Where are you, Gavin?" Geoff asked, over the background noise of the others.

"Warehouse district, by the bay," he replied, glancing around him to make sure the coast was clear before he crossed an intersection. "Might've gotten turned around in all the confusion. I'm making my way to the meet-up point--" Gavin had barely stepped off the sidewalk and into the street when a black van with its lights cut off materialized from the darkness and slammed into him, sending him flying a good couple of feet before he tumbled down the steep embankment and into the churning water below. His chest seized up from the sudden shock of cold, but he couldn't move, couldn't get to the surface. Bubbles streamed from his mouth, his nose, as he sunk deeper and deeper into the water. Suddenly an arm wrapped around his middle, forcing the little air he had left out in a rush, and he felt himself being lifted. His head lolled forward as his consciousness flickered in and out, and right as he was close to passing out, his head broke the surface.

He took a deep breath in before letting out a shuddering cough, his entire body aching and his shoulder and forehead feeling like they were both on fire and submerged into ice at the same time. Gavin cracked open his eyes, a thank you on his tongue when he realized the person holding him was not, in fact, Jeremy, or anyone from the crew. It was a man in a black and white mask, staring unblinkingly at him. Gavin had the fleeting thought of struggling, but he barely began to do so before he was struck upside the head and became boneless in the water, only thing keeping him afloat being the arm around his stomach. He heard a muffled, heavily accented, "Got him, boss," before his world became shrouded in darkness.

**Author's Note:**

> lmao fun fact, this was written right on the site, and not on google docs, unlike normally. i cant fuckin curse or type 'problematic' shit bc im on my school chromebook, and it'll get flagged for inappropriate use but w/e, what can a dude do?


End file.
